


Long Night

by onceuponamidnightqueery



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, No Incest, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29441559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponamidnightqueery/pseuds/onceuponamidnightqueery
Summary: Vanya visits the academy with Luther and Klaus on the Fourth of July.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Long Night

**Author's Note:**

> wrote a fourth of july fic on valentine's day for some reason. luther, klaus, and vanny are an underrated trio with great potential. i thought it would be interesting for vanya and klaus to both be noise-sensitive (klaus due to ptsd and vanya due to her powers). this is 100% platonic, i'm just a slut for fraternal physical comfort. au in which the hargreeves stopped the apocalypse without messing up the timelime, so no sparrows and grace and pogo live.

When Vanya stepped outside the air-conditioned orchestra building, the heat hit her at once. Like a dense, slick mist, it crawled over her shoulders and under the strap with which she carried her violin, where beads of sweat began to form at once. The sky above was blue, aggressively so, and the sun was so bright that she was forced to train her gaze to the sidewalk. She sighed and once again wished it were still spring, when she could gaze out the window of her apartment and tap her foot in time with the soft pattering of the raindrops. Summer came too quickly and lasted too long.  
  
For a moment, Vanya was brought back to the time that she had initiated a rainstorm after the fight with her family. She briefly wished she could replicate the same effect now, but she intrinsically suspected that it would be a bad idea to try. At once, she began envisioning worst-case scenarios- it would be just like her to try to bring about a small drizzle and end up flooding the city. Besides, she didn't use her powers if she could avoid it. Only when they were triggered by something beyond her control.  
  
"Vanya?"  
  
Vanya turned around to see a familiar massive figure approaching her. "Hey, Luther. What are you doing here?"  
  
"I was heading to pick up Klaus," he explained, gesturing down the street ahead.  
  
She nodded in understanding. "How's sobriety going for him?"  
  
"Better than before, at least," said Luther with a shrug of his heavy shoulders. "He's getting a bit sick of the academy, I think. Hey, come to think of it, you should come by tonight."  
  
"What's tonight?" she queried with a small frown.  
  
"Well, it's the fourth. You know there's always a huge firework show down the street."  
  
"Oh, right." Vanya tried to think back and found her memories of that particular affair at the academy all too clear. Reclusive as he was, her father had never failed to ensure that her siblings had gotten a gig in the local Independence Day parades. Of course, the invitation had never been extended to Vanya. She had been left to watch from the window as her brothers and sister marched through the streets between police horses bedecked in patriotic colors and overexcited Boy Scout troops. Later that evening, while her siblings had clamored to the windows to see the brightly-colored starbursts blazing in the night sky, Vanya would retire early to her room. Sometimes she would play her violin; anything to drown out the excited chatter from beyond.  
  
"You in?" Luther asked, dragging her from her reverie.  
  
"Um, sure." She gave a small smile that she hoped looked sincere.  
  
He grinned in return. "See you later, then. It'll start around eight."  
  
As she watched him go on his way, she remembered Allison's sharp comment from over a year ago: _"You isolate yourself from everything and everyone. You always have."_  
  
She didn't think that was true. How much of a choice had she had? But in any case, the words had stung. A lot. She didn't _want_ it to be true- she wanted to be with her family.  
  
After she went home, Vanya spent the rest of the afternoon busied with a couple of violin lessons that she had carelessly scheduled one after the other. By the time she waved her last client out the door, encouraging her to keep practicing, there wasn't too much time before she had to leave.  
  
She had barely knocked on the thick doors of the academy when Grace opened it for her. "Hey, Mom," said Vanya.  
  
"You're just in time," Grace greeted her with a glittering white smile, as though Vanya were just a kid who had been playing outside for the day. She led her down the hall and into the kitchen, where Luther and Klaus were lounging in the chairs. Klaus was filling his hands with mini pretzels from a bowl in the middle of the table and transferring them to his mouth with stunning speed. Vanya hadn't seen her brother in a short while- he looked a little better than the last time she'd crossed paths with him, when he had still been recovering from his last relapse. He was less sallow, less edgy.  
  
"How's it going, Vanya?" he greeted her through a mouthful of snacks.  
  
"Not so bad. You?" she returned.  
  
"Oh, same old, same old."  
  
"So when's the big show?"  
  
"Shouldn't be long now," Luther answered, rising to his feet. "Come on, I know where we can get the best view."  
  
She followed him along a twisting route up several staircases. She grew more uncertain when he coaxed her into the ancient attic- the musty smell was overpowering- but he moved with deliberation, seeming to know what he was doing. He felt along the ceiling (which he could reach with ease) and, to her surprise, managed to open a sort of trapdoor and pull down a small ladder.  
  
"I didn't know there was a way to the roof."  
  
"Really?" He gazed at her with a crease between his eyes. "Allison and I found it years ago. I think even Five would blink up here when he needed some alone time."  
  
"Oh." Vanya hoped her tone didn't reflect the acrid taste that suddenly pervaded her tongue. She bit her lip.  
  
Luther climbed up the ladder- barely managing to squeeze his breadth through the relatively narrow opening- and offered her a hand. When she blinked the dust from her vision, she was standing on top of the academy, the wind whistling around her ears. It was only the first sound she noticed. Immediately after, her senses were assaulted by the honking of horns and the growling of impatient engines- the din of traffic still had yet to die down. Layered on top of that was the electric hum of the streetlamps below, where clouds of moths whirled around the harsh glare. There was a flutter of phantom white wings in the distance, and a high-pitched squeal pierced the air as an owl carried off its supper.  
  
"Nice view, huh?" said Luther. He didn't seem bothered by the noise. His head was angled skyward, where the heavens were already inky black, embroidered with a sprinkling of silver stars. What with the city lights, it was a miracle that any of them were visible at all. The moon, however was absent. Vanya wondered if Luther was thinking about that at the same time that she was.  
  
"Nice," she agreed. She crossed over to the edge of the roof and sat down. Her legs dangled over the edge, and she kicked them childishly.  
  
"Whoa, careful-" Luther cautioned, starting to reach out towards her.  
  
She stared at him blankly. She saw comprehension descend upon him. He slowly pulled back his arm. "Oh. Right. You could just- sorry." He cut himself off and shoved his big hands into his pockets, chagrined.  
  
She didn't blame him. She was still getting used to her rediscovered abilities- actually, she hadn't even been thinking about them when she'd gone over to the edge. She had just done it because she wanted to. But now, of course, the thought took over her mind. About what would happen if a particularly strong gust were to pitch her off of the building. About how the chilly night air would feel racing between her fingers in free-fall. About whether she would be able to simply harvest the energy from the lush garden of noises around her and channel it through her veins until she was floating, stopping the rush of the cement up towards her, stopping the roar of the wind.  
  
The image should have been reassuring. She should have derived security from the knowledge that she was in control, that she could save herself in anything went wrong. Instead, it frightened her. These things that she was thinking about should, by all provable law, be impossible. Why was she an exception?  
  
"I think it's starting," Luther said, in a cheerful tone that struck her as a bold attempt to smooth over the awkwardness that had thickened the atmosphere.  
  
She looked up in time to see the first firework explode overhead. Resplendent ribbons of red and gold chased each other in concentric circles, spreading wider and wider. It was enormous- whoever was setting them off must have been close.  
  
So close, in fact, that the sound hit less than a second later.  
  
It ripped through her core like a tidal wave, like a shot of pure adrenaline to the heart. Vanya gasped and lurched backwards, sprawling onto the hard roof. A shock of pain jolted through the base of her skull when her head made brief contact with the asphalt, but it was nothing compared to the sensation within. It was as though her brain had been hit by lightning, sending fierce currents over every inch its surface, pulverizing it. As she stared up into the blackness, wide-eyed, the stars above her multiplied from hundreds to thousands, silver and purple and green.  
  
Luther's voice reached her as though from very far away. "Vanya! Vanya, are you okay?"  
  
He had taken her head into his hands, easily fitting it into his cupped palms. Stunned, she forced herself to sit up. The roof grazed her wrists as she propped herself up with her hands. "I'm fine," she replied in a flat tone that did not belong to her. "Were they always . . . this close?"  
  
"As far as I can remember," Luther replied. His eyes were round disks, laden with concern. "Are you feeling okay?"  
  
"I'm fine," she told him. "I'm sorry, I . . . I don't know what that-"  
  
Before she could finish her sentence, another exquisite display of color declared itself above the horizon. This time, Vanya had an infinitesimally brief instant in which to prepare herself for the aftermath- she closed her eyes and snapped her jaw shut until her molars ground against one another- before the blast was upon her. She didn't fall this time, but she scraped her fingers as they automatically curled inward. The pain of it didn't register. All she was aware of was the sudden power that pulsed through her blood with the force of a speeding train.  
  
The fireworks kept going. Red and green, yellow and purple. They followed each other in a steady, perfectly timed succession. Each one crashed into her like a freed neutron in a nuclear reactor, magnifying the deadly power contained within her body. She made herself stand up, but that was a mistake- a particularly large violet spiral above sent her careening off to the side, arms pinwheeling.  
  
"Vanya!" Luther's cry came to her in a momentary pause between explosions. She saw him reach for her- she knew it was a mistake, she wanted to warn him, but it was as though her mouth were fastened shut. She couldn't say a word as he tried to grab her shoulder to stabilize her. All she could do was watch as he was lifted off of his feet and flung forcefully backwards in a burst of white light that rivaled even the brilliant illumination overhead.  
  
He fell heavily to the roof. A low grunt escaped his chest as the air was compressed from his lungs, and a cloud of dust swirled up around him.  
  
"Luther!" Vanya called out. Horror rushed over her like she'd been doused in ice water. He slowly rolled onto his back, clutching at the back of his neck. "Did I hurt you?"  
  
"Um, I don't think so," he mumbled, probing his head with his thick fingers. "I think I'm good."  
  
"I'm so sorry," she gasped. Another rocket spread long ruby claws across the night, closely pursued by a noise like a cannon. She ducked down and seized her own arms, holding onto herself as though to rein her powers in. "I . . . I have to get out of here."  
  
"Vanya, wait!" Luther shouted.  
  
But she was already closing the door to the roof behind her. That shielded her from the very worst of it, but to her panic, she could still hear the sound clearly. She ran down a flight of stairs, nearly tripping over her own feet, and desperately sought a place where she could find relative quiet. Eventually, she threw a door open and ducked into an empty room, heart pounding in her throat.  
  
Except it wasn't empty. Someone was already there.  
  
Klaus was huddled in the corner, shoulders braced against the wall. His eyes were squeezed tightly closed, and his hands were clamped firmly over his ears. When another defeaning _boom_ rang out, his entire body gave a violent shudder, and he pulled his knees even closer against his chest.  
  
"Klaus?" said Vanya softly. He didn't hear her.  
  
She sat down next to him. He started and turned as her shirt brushed his arm. His green eyes were glassy with fear, pupils flared wide. They showed her the reflection of her own, still glowing white. Another firework went off: its red-blue-green lumimance leered in through the windows, which trembled in their frames. The light drew garish highlights across Klaus's face, amplifying the terror frozen there.  
  
"Hey. You okay?" she asked slowly, deliberately shaping the words with her mouth so he could read her lips. He blinked several times in rapid succession, then turned and drove his forehead against his knees, pawing more fiercely still at his head to keep the racket out.  
  
Since when was Klaus spooked by loud noises? She couldn't recall. The academy had always been fairly quiet under her father's severe gaze, so maybe she just hadn't realized. Then again, perhaps it was more recent- after all, she hadn't minded them so much herself until now.  
  
Vanya clenched her fists as another thunderous blast reverberated through her, swelling to an excruciating volume. She found herself imitating Klaus, blocking the sound with her palms. She could still hear them, but it helped a little.  
  
When the next volley of explosions sounded off, Vanya grit her teeth as she struggled to contain the energy inside of her. She needed something to cling to, anything, to keep herself from losing control . . . and then, when the noise subsided, she saw that she had unconsciously leaned against her brother. Judging by the way that his torso was angled towards her, he had done the same.  
  
Instead of pulling back, as she instinctively was going to do, Vanya wound an arm around Klaus's neck. He sank into her grasp at once, leaning against her side. His weight was heavy upon her, but was nice, somehow. Soothing.  
  
"What was it for you?" Klaus muttered into her shirt.  
  
"What?" Vanya gazed down at him.  
  
Klaus raised a hand away from his ear and gestured vaguely towards the window.  
  
"Oh." Vanya let out a low sigh that she hadn't realized she was holding in. "I think it was my medication. Now everything is-" She twitched violently as another firework broke out; maybe removing her hands had been a mistake, but there was no way that she wanted to let go of Klaus now. "-louder."  
  
"Like, super hearing?" Klaus's voice was casual, conversational, as though he were not shivering intensely.  
  
"I guess."  
  
"That's pretty cool. Sorry it has to suck sometimes," said Klaus with genuine sympathy.  
  
She shrugged. "I'll bet talking to the dead sucks sometimes."  
  
"You have no idea." Klaus grimaced as a particularly intense firework rumbled through the floor. "It isn't always the worst, though. Sometimes . . . sometimes you get a bit more time."  
  
"Ben," said Vanya. She was sure that he wouldn't hear: she had spoken so quietly, and the echo of the last blast was still churning through the air.  
  
But Klaus nodded. "Ben," he repeated.  
  
The noise was still going on, but conversation made it easier to ignore, so Vanya kept talking. "Do you miss him?"  
  
"Well, he could be massively annoying." Klaus tilted his head so that it rested more comfortably on her shoulder. "But yeah."  
  
Vanya pictured her brother. His kind eyes, his gentle smile . . . his body fragmenting into a shower of blue light. Gone forever. Gone to somewhere that even Klaus could not pull him back from. Guilt gnawed at her chest. "I'm sorry."  
  
Klaus twisted around to meet her gaze. When a wave of dazzling amber flashed in from beyond- accompanied by a crash that made them both wince- she saw that his brow was furrowed with confusion. "What are you sorry for?"  
  
"It was my fault," she explained in a low tone. Maybe the act of giving voice to the thought that had been festering in her stomach for so long should have been cathartic, but all Vanya felt was a rush of fresh regret. It had all been because of her. Ben had said that she wasn't a monster, but as much as she wanted to believe him, she couldn't shake the knowledge that his sacrifice had been just that- a sacrifice. Giving up his existence, ghostly though it might have been, for hers, had been a last-resort move to stop her from ending the world. Again.  
  
"What? No," Klaus dismissed. "No, Vanya- Vanya, listen." He tried to straighten up, clearly fumbling with his words. His hands clasped her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. When he spoke again, his voice was shot through with a wavering tremor. Whether fear or emotion was the cause, she could not say. "I know what that feels like. Like there was something else you could have done. Because you were both there, right? You were both there."  
  
Vanya was startled by the intensity with which his eyes, green and bright as the sea, bore into hers. "Klaus . . ."  
  
"Sometimes, people you love just go away. Right in front of you. And when you see that, you think it must have been you," he went on. She had never heard him talk so quickly before- the words fell in a stream from his lips, an ever-quickening flow. But she didn't interrupt, nor did she pull back.  
  
"So we just . . . we just blame ourselves, 'cause that's the only way it can make sense." He sighed and released her, slumping back against her side. "It wasn't your fault, Vanny."  
  
They were quiet for a while after that. The fireworks show continued outside.  
  
"What was it for you?" Vanya eventually asked.  
  
Klaus exhaled, his breath rustling through his closed teeth. "Oh, you know. Good old Vietnam," he replied, drawing out the name of the country in a half-singsong.  
  
She remembered when Klaus told her about his brief stint as a soldier in the 1960s. They had been in the hair salon with Allison. Vanya had still lacked any memories of her life with her siblings. For his part, Klaus had been very drunk, slurring his words as he explained that he had been sent back in time, placed in a squadron in the middle of the humid Vietnam jungle- "The bugs were a _bitch_ "- and fought alongside his fellow soldier-turned-lover, Dave. In the end, Dave had died. Klaus hadn't laid out the exact circumstances, but in a war zone, those weren't hard to imagine. Klaus had been trying to stop it from happening anew, back then. She realized that she had no idea if he had succeeded.  
  
"Did you keep him from doing it again?" she asked hesitantly.  
  
"Dave?"  
  
The way he said his name- like it was pure poetry, like it was sweet to the taste, but also tainted with a weary sort of sorrow, as though he had been mourning it for centuries.  
  
"No, I didn't."  
  
"I'm sorry," said Vanya. The words were too familiar on her lips. She had uttered them too many times in her life, with too little efficacy. "That wasn't your fault, either, you know."  
  
The enormous blasts had faded. In there place came fleets of sparklers, spraying gouts of silver and gold through the smoky sky with a series of rapid _pop-pop-pop_ sounds. Each one felt like someone driving a knife into her eardrum. She had let her guard down, and now her powers surged up in full force, threatening to choke her. Despite her best efforts, the scintillating light beaming in through the windowpane revealed that long cracks had appeared in the glass. Klaus, meanwhile, had curled into a tight ball, his face buried into his lap and his arms wrapped vicelike around his head. A low groan slipped from his lips.  
  
When quiet returned, Vanya shook his shoulder gently. He slowly unfurled, shaking his head dazedly. "Look at us," he muttered. Despite the quivering of his voice, she could detect a sardonic note there. "Your powers . . . me fighting in a war from seventy years ago. They sure messed us up, huh?"  
  
She nodded, unsure of what to say, and pulled her knees up to her chest.  
  
Klaus rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, exhaustion setting into his features. "Yeah, I guess there's nothing we can do about that."  
  
He edged a bit closer to her. His body heat was warming her icy skin; Vanya was always cold. Klaus seemed to register the chill- he paused for a moment- but he didn't withdraw. Instead, he leaned back against her chest. Vanya readjusted her arms until she was cradling him. Despite the fact that he was quite longer than she was, the position was comforting. In fact, everything about his proximity was comforting. She found herself relaxing her muscles, not realizing how tense she had gotten.  
  
"Nothing we can do," Klaus echoed in a sigh.  
  
The cacophony outside mounted in fervor- perhaps they were approaching a finale of sorts- but within the room, the only sound was their breathing, flowing soft and rhythmic. Vanya tried to focus on that, letting every other noise melt away into the background like the lapping of water on a shore.  
  
When Luther found them late that night, they were nestled up against one another as close as they could be. For a moment, surprise flew across his face. Then he crossed over and lowered himself on the carpet next to them. "Mind if I join you?"  
  
Klaus smiled. The motion shifted the way the scarce light fell on his face, emphasizing the gleaming lines that had been left by tears. "Sure, bro."  
  
It was very warm and very crowded, with the three of them together. But Vanya wouldn't have changed a single thing. They stayed like that until well after the first slivers of silvery dawn had begun to creep over the floor through the broken windows.  
  
When the gray had given way to soft golden, Grace opened the door. "Would you kids like breakfast?" she asked in a sunny voice, smiling down at them as though she found nothing at all unusual about their arrangement.  
  
"Be right there," said Luther, returning her smile. He took one of each of their arms in his large palms and pulled them to their feet: Klaus mumbling drowsy objections, Vanya rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand. They walked after Grace in a clumsy unit, Luther barely keeping them both on their feet.  
  
"Klaus?" said Vanya.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Oh, sure. Let's do it again some time."


End file.
